Ellen's Speech
by Wemmabby
Summary: ...and its consequences.


**Ellen's Speech**

"Mrs. Sanders, how does it feel to be operating on the President of The United States?"

Ellen laughed the question off, but then realized that the reporter was, indeed, serious. She giggled and giddily placed her hands on her hips.

"I think that it's completely and thoroughly stupid that we're having a public press conference involving the President's well-being. I can't imagine how many serial killers out there will hear this announcement, which by the way, is a complete disregard for Mr. President's safety," she said. "You should all know the truth. And that is, my friends, that whoever wrote this show is a complete idiot who has been living under a rock for the past 100 years. They are stupid. All of you are stupid. The whole premise of this show is stupid! For goodness' sake, it doesn't even make sense! Apparently the president is some sort of man whore or something? I don't really know, because the promos are so stupid and they've basically given away everything that happens and you might as well all go and shoot yourselves in your backyards because the world is ENDING! This is the apocalypse of stupid ass TV shows and frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. So, someone, please, just gag me with a spoon because I can't bear to be here anymore." Ellen curtly threw the microphone out into the audience. She was screaming loudly enough that she didn't need it anymore. She suddenly broke out into her signature Australian accent and began speaking again.

"And I have this stupid Aussie accent that I don't even get to USE! I suppose I could just pull a Freddie Highmore and not even ATTEMPT to cover up its existence, but couldn't we all? But I can't just STOP being Australian! I'm so sorry!? But I'm just done with everything. Goodbye, mates. I have to meet my family at Outback Steakhouse, anyway! SCREW THE WRITERS! SCREW THEM FOR BEING RACIST AGAINST AUSTRALIANS!" She ran off the stage, now in tears. She skipped to Outback with a happy lilt, spotting her husband's car in the parking lot. Hopefully he'd already saved a table for them.

When she walked in, waiters and waitresses were struggling to deal with the mass hoard of customers that had all just appeared somehow. Ellen pushed her way through the crowd and saw her family sitting at a small table in the middle of the restaurant. She made it over to them, but not before tripping a waitress and slamming the assistant manager into a wall.

"Brian, why are there so many people here?"

"I don't know. I didn't even think that there were this many people living in America."

Then, everyone froze in their tracks. A hooded man walked in, pointing a gun at a small child's face. "Everybody put your hands in the air," he threatened. Two other men were with him, one a man, and one a woman.

"We're taking your steaks hostage!" the woman screamed.

"Hey, that's the name of the show!" one unknowing pedestrian shouted from the back. He was silenced by the hooded man stuffing a sock into his mouth.

"Now, pile all of your meat into this basket," ordered someone.

"And don't miss any," said the hooded man. Everyone lined up in front of the basket to give their steaks away. One woman was crying.

"Shut up," someone said to her.

"B-But my steak!" she wept. "I paid twenty dollars for this tenderized piece of meat!" She cradled the steak near her chest and began stroking it soothingly, as if it were her own flesh and blood.

"Miss, just give up the meat and everything will be alright," Ellen said consolingly.

"No! You'll never make me!"

"Give up the meat," the hooded man demanded. "Or someone dies."

"I won't hand it over until you reveal your true identity, you hooded assface!" she sobbed. The man took off his mask and smiled at her.

"My name is Duncan Carlisle. I'm with the FBI or something. I don't really remember."

"Kay, here," she said, placing it in the basket. "Whatever, I don't even care anymore."

Ellen was next in line. Duncan Carlisle looked at her with his captivating crystal eyes of sexiness.

"Put it in the basket, Ellen."

"How do you know my name?"

"You're the president's slut, remember?" Duncan grimaced. "Whore, whore, you're a whore..."

"Honestly, you're more of a whore than I'll ever be. The president's a stupid whore. That doesn't make me one though. Only God can judge me, Duncan Carlisle. So I'd advise you to shut up." Duncan grabbed Ellen by the waist and said,

"I can't resist a good romance novel. Or a rebellious Australian woman." He leaned in, as if to kiss her, but Ellen karate chopped his groin and started screaming. She started cursing in Australian. She climbed up onto the bar and began belting out the Australian national anthem:

_"One day we'll remember,_  
_One day we'll remember _  
_the lorrrrddddd._  
_We will praise him and _  
_love him for the worsssstttt_  
_and the besssstttt._  
_We will talk like thisssssss_  
_and the Americanssss_  
_will envyyyy ussssss._  
_We will run,_  
_butttt neverrrr hiiidde,_  
_God shall keeeppp us_  
_warrrrmmmm,_  
_as we residdeeeeeeeeee..."_

Ellen was near the climax of the song. It was time for the moment of truth. She took a deep breath and began singing:

_"Everrryy breathhh,_  
_is loneesommmeee,_  
_and cherissshhhableeee,_  
_I love theee wayyy_  
_itttttt feeeeeeellllssss._  
_Ittttt feeeeellllllllssssss_  
_sooooooooooooooo_  
_GOOOOOOOOOOOOD."_

She hit the last note, which was a high C. Ellen was oh-so proud of herself, as she started hurling into the crowd. Australian barf is way tastier than regular barf.

THE END


End file.
